


Sulking Shirt, Cheering Hamster

by alkjira, diemarysues



Series: Paws Pitter-Pattering [6]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Animals, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 02:57:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/pseuds/alkjira, https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which having nine children and a silly human (who insists on stacking things on you) means your long-suffering mate has to cheer you up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sulking Shirt, Cheering Hamster

**Author's Note:**

> The bare bones of this story was written via email. I just fleshed it out some. alkjira wrote most of the really enjoyable sentences (like the shirt one). [diemarysues is being much too modest, it wasnt nearly this awesome in our emails]
> 
> (ps don't ask about the title)

The thing with having nine children was that there were _nine_ children to look after. Nine. It was still difficult to wrap his head around this fact, and it didn’t help that Thorin was bone tired.

 

He and Bilbo shared parenting responsibilities, of course. They both had different skills and teachings to pass on, but it had to be said that Thorin was the one with longer legs and a better jumping capability – which meant that he was the one most often running after their little pups.

 

Which, you know, would have been alright if the children would sit still for once.

 

“Father! Let me down!”

 

Thorin did no such thing. If his mouth had been free, he would have explained to Éowyn that running along the back of the sofa was a dangerous endeavour indeed. She was very headstrong, their Éowyn, and Thorin rather thought that he might leave the disciplining to Bilbo.

 

As he and Éowyn trotted towards the cage, they passed four of her siblings and Thorin was immediately wary. Fíli was to Kíli what Merry was to Pippin – and the four of them together, _obviously_ scheming, was something to be worried about.

 

Also something to mention to Bilbo. He’d do something about it himself, but he was hideously tired. Cats weren’t meant to deal with nine cathamsters, he was sure.

 

But he did love them so.

 

He set a sulking Éowyn down between Éomer and Durin.

 

“No climbing the back of the sofa. That goes for all of you.”

 

Éowyn sniffed, but Thorin made sure to stare her down until she nodded. He then leaned over to rub his chin against the top of her head, and heard a grumbled apology. Good. He left the three of them where they were; Éomer and Durin were her favourite brothers, and would cheer her up in no time.

 

It took some looking (and a dread-inducing moment when he realised that his four scheming sons were now missing) to find Bilbo. His hamster was with Frodo and Rosie (both the smallest of their brood), busy doing… _something_ to the potted plants Ori kept by the window.

 

Bilbo beamed up at him. “Everything alright, darling?”

 

“You’ll have to watch out for our little demons.”

 

“Oh, no. What’ve they done now?”

 

“Don’t know, but expect something.” Thorin yawned widely. “Something destructive.” Really, their humans had almost as much patience as Bilbo did, constantly having to pluck cathamsters from odd places.

 

“Aren’t these pretty, Father?” Rosie was seated inside one of the pots, amongst pale flowers.

 

“Mmhmm.” Thorin pawed his right ear. “Almost as pretty as you, dearheart,” he said, amused when she squeaked in pleasure.

 

“You look real tired, Da,” Frodo remarked, peering up at Thorin.

 

“He’s right.” Bilbo slid down the side of a pot and toddled to stand before Thorin, putting his paws over one of the cat’s own. “Maybe you should get some sleep. You look dead on your claws.”

 

“Not quite that bad,” Thorin rumbled, feeling another yawn climb up his throat. Ugh. “Will you be alright looking after the children?”

 

He looked amused. “I should be able to manage. Ori and his Kíli will be home soon, in any case.”

 

“Right. I’ll just…” Thorin frowned, thinking for a moment. He really _was_ exhausted. “I’ll just nap, then.”

 

Bilbo stretched up as far as he could. “Come here first.”

 

Affection suffused through his worn-out body, and Thorin touched their noses together. It was then that Bilbo let him leave and he did so gladly, slinking to the flat panel Kíli called his ‘laptop’ and which he called his bed. It was almost always warm and Thorin curled atop it. He fell asleep immediately and deeply.

 

This ended up being a bad thing when Ori and Kíli did return minutes later…

 

* * *

 

“You brought this upon yourself, you know.”

 

Kíli tried not to wince too much as Ori dabbed iodine over his wounds. “He was sleeping on my laptop. I just wanted him off.”

 

“You could’ve picked him up, not stack candy bars on him.” He screwed the cover on the little glass bottle. “I don’t even know why you bought so much chocolate.”

 

“It was on sale,” Kíli explained, a little sulkily. He wondered if explaining what had actually transpired would be worth it; he’d used a Snickers bar to prod Thorin warily, just so he _wouldn’t_ get scratched. When there had been no reaction at all, he’d rested the bar on the black cat’s body as a joke. Before he realised what had happened he’d already stacked about six assorted chocolate bars onto Thorin, while four or five of the cathamsters observed. He couldn’t stop while they were watching – they were practically cheering him on.

 

Then Thorin had unexpectedly woken up, knocked over the mountain of chocolate, became startled by the sound of said mountain being knocked over, and then caught sight of Kíli.

 

On second thought, best not try that explanation.

 

“There. All done.” Ori really was a wonder; always so calm and collected, and very handy with a first aid kit. Kíli smiled down at Ori as he absently stroked the inside of Kíli’s forearm. “Does it hurt badly?”

 

“Nnnn – yes. Badly.” He pushed his lower lip into a pout, the very same one that got him sympathy from even his brother. “Very badly.”

 

Ori hummed in reply, a smile hiding in the corners of his mouth. Damn, he suspected. “Can I do anything to help?”

 

Kíli ran his free hand down Ori’s side, stopping at one slim hip before slipping his fore- and middle-fingers into one belt loop. “I can think of a few things.”

 

His boyfriend laughed – _laughed!_ – when Kíli said this. Obviously the next course of action was to lean down for a kiss, to chase that infuriatingly heart-flipping smile off Ori’s face and replace it with an endearing flush. But – Kíli opened one eye.

 

Durin, Éowyn, Merry, and Pippin were watching them with varying degrees of interest. Mini-Fíli (how _cool_ was it to have a cathamster named after his brother as well as having one named after him?), on the other hand, was determinedly trying to climb into the band-aid-and-medicine box.

 

He pulled back with a sigh (and peripherally noted that there was indeed a deep flush across Ori’s cheeks. Score). “Looks like we’ll have to relocate. There are some impressionable minds about.”

 

Kíli was snorted at. “Luckily we don’t have to have the Birds and the Bees conversation with them. That would be too weird.” Ori gently nudged Mini-Fíli away and picked up the box. “I’ll put this back in the kitchen. Meet you in the bedroom?”

 

“Good thinking.” He filched another kiss from Ori because… well, just because.

 

“And make sure to close the door,” Ori murmured after they parted. There was a devious twist to his lips. “Don’t want claws to come out at an unfortunate moment.”

 

Kíli shuddered. “You’re cruel, you are.”

 

Ori dragged the tip of his finger along Kíli’s stubbled jaw, and then down his neck. “Oh, I’ll make it worth your while… so long as you’re ready when I come to the room.”

 

He didn’t need to be told twice.

 

* * *

 

Bilbo considered the children as they ate their dinner – one hurriedly dished out by Kíli before he and Ori had disappeared into their room. “You know if you do lasting damage Ori might just get rid of you.”

Thorin sniffed. “He wouldn't dare.”

 

“I don't know, he's very fond of Kíli.” Certainly, he’d never moved into new territories with any of the other humans he’d brought back. Bilbo quite liked Kíli; he was a little loud, yes, and seemed not to know how to tread carefully around Thorin, but he treated their children well.

 

That and he always shared his sunflower seeds.

 

Noting that Thorin had yet to reply, Bilbo gazed up at his cat. “I’m being serious, Thorin. Stop scratching Kíli so much. One would think that you like inflicting injury.”

 

“It’s not my fault he –”

 

“I don’t want to hear it, Thorin,” the hamster interrupted sharply. “You shouldn’t have scratched him.”

 

Thorin put his ears back flat against his head. “But he started it!”

 

Before Bilbo could comment on this childishness, Thorin had jumped down from the table and slinked off like a huge black shadow, presumably to sulk in his usual hideout. Bilbo sighed.

 

“Daddy?” He met Pippin’s gaze (and in so doing noted that the rest of the children were watching him worriedly). “Did you and Father fight?”

 

“No we… just had a discussion. We’ll be finishing it later, is all.” This did not seem to satisfy the little ones, but Bilbo summoned a smile all the same. “Come along, my dears, finish up your dinner and then you can go play.”

 

* * *

 

Thorin, who was most definitely not sulking within the dark confines of the laundry basket, burrowed further into the clothes. He should have slept here instead of on the ‘laptop’, if only to have been spared the indignity of being used as a _table_. How _dare_ Kíli –

 

There was a soft scuffle outside the basket that had Thorin’s ears twitching, and then he heard his and Bilbo’s Kíli speak. “Dad?”

 

Thorin wondered how Kíli had found him; perhaps he’d passed on his keen sense of smell. “What is it?”

 

The answer came from Fíli. “Dad, why are you hiding?”

 

His tail lashed. “I'm not  _hiding_. I'm merely... resting.”

 

“But you’re doing what Frodo does when he’s upset, an’ Daddy calls _that_ hiding, so aren’t you hiding?” Thorin could almost hear the frown in Kíli’s voice, and as endearing as that was, it didn’t tamp down on his annoyance.

 

Luckily for him, Bilbo came to the rescue. Sort of.

 

“Boys, leave your father alone.” He spoke over their complaints. “No, I won’t hear it. Go on, get going. Pretending to be a shirt is a private thing.”

 

Thorin growled.

 

=

 

In retrospect, Bilbo supposed he shouldn’t have teased Thorin when his pride had already taken a bashing. Not only was he genuinely sorry that his cat had gone through such an ordeal, he now had the job of cheering Thorin up. Not a painless affair.

  
"Darling?" Bilbo stopped outside the laundry basket. "Feel like coming out yet? I've got a surprise for you."

 

"I'm sure there are no darlings here," Thorin muttered, just loudly enough to be heard. "Only _shirts_."

 

"Well you usually wrap yourself around me -" Bilbo paused. "Though of course I don't wear clothes..." (Even so, one of those things Ori called a 'waistcoat' would be nice. He wondered if those were made in sizes that would fit him.)  
  
"The children are in Ori' and Kíli’s room, being looked after...”

 

A sigh came from the basket, but no Thorin was forthcoming. 

 

In the background there was a small crash, and the low sound of excited peeping. Bilbo paid it no mind; he had quickly learnt that as long as their children made noise, all was well. It was the silences you had to watch out for. 

 

"And my fur is awfully messy. It could take  _hours_  to fix it. I really would like some help."

 

A dark head peeked out from the basket (the sleeve of someone’s purple shirt draped over it), and blue eyes widened in surprise as they took him in.

 

"Bilbo, what have you been _doing_?"

 

Well, he’d been busy picking up all sorts of things that occasionally snagged and pinched at his fur… but if it managed to cheer a taciturn Thorin up, it was worth it. 

 

"Please?" Bilbo murmured, widening his eyes in a mute appeal. “I’d do it myself, but I’m not as good as you are.”

 

Thorin narrowed his eyes for a moment, and Bilbo almost thought he’d been caught out. Then the moment passed and his mate slithered out of the basket and lay on his belly beside him.

 

“Climb on then,” Thorin said, grumpiness set aside (for now). “This will take awhile, and I’d rather we were on the sofa.”

 

Bilbo smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> can't stop won't stop
> 
> go join the [Big Bang](http://hobbitstory.livejournal.com/)


End file.
